


Heat Wave

by kogosaiyajin



Series: Vegebul Slice of Life [1]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Gift Giving, Ice Cream, One Shot, Romance, Sentimental, Slice of Life, Summer, Three Year Gap (Dragon Ball), Vegebul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-20 18:10:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21060974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kogosaiyajin/pseuds/kogosaiyajin
Summary: Vegeta might be a hot-blooded Saiyan, but living with a fragile Earth woman who's constantly cold can present some issues.





	Heat Wave

**Author's Note:**

> My aircon was broken for several days, and in a sweaty misery induced fervor I dreamt up the perfect solution to my summer woes <3

_ He stumbled blindly through the dark, clawing at his face for air. He was suffocating, choking on his own saliva as he gasped and wheezed. Frantic, his arms shot in every direction wildly searching for something - anything that would help him find his way out. His legs trembled from the lack of oxygen. A Saiyan only had so long before their oxygen-rich blood gave out, and he knew he was pushing his limits. _

_ Maniacal laughter rang out, deafening him in a roar until he had no choice but to drop to his knees and cover his ears in agony. The sound kept coming, crushing him until he thought he would crumble beneath the pressure. _

* * *

Vegeta sat bolt upright in bed, dripping sweat and struggling to catch his breath. The nightmare echoed in his ears as he tried to force it from his mind. The incredible heat he remembered, though, remained. He realized the jet of cold air that was normally pointed at his bed was missing. _ That spoiled woman...must have gotten cold and turned it off. _

Cursing, he threw off the sweaty blanket he’d been fighting in his sleep and stomped out of his room, clad only in the small part of shorts Bulma had given him to wear while she patched him up. Some days he wondered what the fuck was he doing, hanging around this woman’s house, eating her food and destroying her robots. She was constantly underfoot, sassing him and ordering him around - leaving her scent in his room and on his clothes. He knew he shouldn’t stay, or couldn’t stay, but each day it seemed he found a new reason not to fly right out his bedroom window. 

This was too much, though. Bulma had needled him into sleeping across the hall from her after she’d had to reattach most of one of his arms, complaining that she wanted to be able to monitor him more closely. Vegeta was fairly certain they both knew that she was completely full of shit - well, mostly. She took care of his injuries, but just as often he would snap awake to her standing naked at the foot of his bed, moonlight spilling over the creamy white curves his hands felt at home in. 

_ If this heat is some ploy to get me to hunt her down for some midnight fun...ha! _ He frowned. Her bedroom door was wide open, which she never did, complaining that it “let out all the warm”. Cautiously, he peeked around the door frame. It was empty. Worry over her absence began to replace his irritation. _ It’s fine. The damned woman is probably in her lab again, neglecting her sleep. _He told himself again, he didn’t care, that he was just going down there to scold her. 

He turned down the hallway and stopped short. The stairway to her lab was dark, but light shone through a cracked door he’d never bothered to go through before. Vegeta’s skin tingled as he crept across the floor, his bare feet silent on the smooth wood. 

“Kami! Fuck this, you...you piece of shit!” Bulma’s yell startled him and was followed by a harsh crash. He peered through the crack in the door. She was working on something, wrenches and other tools scattered about the floor around her. Crouching on the floor, she twisted awkwardly to slip her torso inside some giant mechanical box, her tiny feet arching as she strained and rose up on her toes. His mouth went dry as his eyes raked up her scantily dressed form. 

The air conditioning was broken, then, he realized. She hadn’t turned it down at all. Vegeta felt a familiar discomfort as his embarrassment and shame settled on his shoulders. He’d assumed she selfishly turned it off and left him to sweat, and here she was trying to fix it herself in the dead of night when he knew she was rich enough to have someone fix it first thing in the morning. _ But then you wouldn’t have been able to sleep. _His mind taunted him. 

He spun on his heel and marched back down the dim hallway to his bedroom. At the doorway, he stopped, hesitating. For some reason, he felt he couldn’t just go lie back down and hope relief came soon. Sighing, he slipped into the weird earth clothes Bulma had given him, still unused to the loose-fitting style. He complained to her that he looked like a flower and felt naked, but she only laughed mischievously and asked if he’d rather _ be _ naked. 

Glancing behind himself once more, Vegeta strolled out onto his bedroom balcony before leaping over the rail and flying off toward the city. Once, he and Bulma had sat together outside. It was a particularly hot night, but she wanted to stay out anyway, rambling on about her work and her day. He had been content to listen, lying lazily on his back and staring up at the stars as he’d done when he was younger. Bulma had wound up taking them to a tiny store she pronounced her favorite, on account of a strawberry cake ice cream bar they had. Vegeta teased that if Bulma were ever compromised, it would be because someone offered her strawberries. 

He flew over the dark buildings, staying low to try and avoid being detected again by some paranoid human. At last, he found the place, its neon signs glaring at him in the dark as he dropped to the ground across the street. A tiny bell tinkled as he pushed open the shop door, and a wrinkled old man greeted him with a nod, recognizing the flame-haired Saiyan from the many trips Bulma had taken with him. Grabbing one of Bulma’s prized bars, Vegeta plunked it down on the counter. “How much, old man?” he asked gruffly, trying to hide his embarrassment. He still didn’t understand earth’s bartering system, and Bulma had simply taken to speaking to shopkeepers for him. 

Instead of answering, the old man simply grinned at him. “Doesn’t your lady usually do the buying? Sweet legs, purple hair?” he winked, confusing Vegeta even more. “Take it, this time. You seem like you’re trying to make up for something, what with that glower on your face.” Vegeta arched an eyebrow at the man’s crass comment but grumbled a hurried “thanks” before snatching the bar. _ He must have recognized me. Have I really come this often with her? _Vegeta tried to shake the paranoia as he stepped out of the shop.

Within mere minutes, he was back at Capsule Corp, padding quietly down the hall again. He breathed a sigh of relief. The light was still on, and small clanking sounds were still coming from it. Opening the door just enough to slip through, he crept behind her while she was still obscured inside the large machine. Careful not to crinkle the obnoxious wrapper, he laid the ice cream bar on the table that held her tools and snuck back out just as quietly as he came. His pride would not allow him to acknowledge his earlier misplaced blame but leaving the gift for her gave him a bit of peace. Vegeta knew she would see it soon, and would definitely suspect it was him. He ducked into the shower, ridding himself of the infernal stickiness. Still too annoyed to strip and remake the bed, he snatched the pillow from it, deciding to sleep on the floor instead. 

* * *

Bulma hissed as she whacked her wrist yet again, climbing out of the air handler. She was tired, sweaty, and wanted nothing more than to be curled up in her bed. Holding her breath, she flipped the power switch and sighed in relief as it finally roared to life. Cold air blasted her from the vent in the room and she wiped her greasy hands on her tank top. As she reached for the table to drop her wrench, she froze. A strawberry ice cream bar sat on the table, condensation beading on the wrapper. She looked around but was still alone. Somehow, she knew it had to be Vegeta. She poked the bar gently, realizing it was still almost frozen solid. _ He was just here. _

Faintly, she heard the noise of a shower running, confirming her suspicions. The bar crinkled as she ripped it open, her mouth watering in anticipation. She was almost surprised - she didn’t think he’d ever paid attention to what she was eating. Sweet cake crumbles crunched in her mouth and she sighed, savoring every bite. Maybe, just maybe, her aloof and mysterious prince cared more about her than he liked to let on. Smiling, she strode down the hall, ice cream still in hand. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a completely fan-made work and is not officially affiliated in any way with or endorsed by the  
Dragon Ball universe, franchise, films, manga, tv specials or games. Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon  
Ball GT, Dragon Ball Super, and all associated franchises are the property of Akira Toriyama, Fuji TV,  
Funimation, and their respective creators, writers, artists and publishers. Please support the official releases.


End file.
